for all the commuters out there. I am finished with week 4 of my 7 week teaching stint. I honestly like sewing with middle schoolers. They remind me of pirates, crass, giddy, kind of ungrounded, odiferous, need I continue? What I don’t enjoy is the commute to Junction City and Oakridge. Commuters are a toughened and resilient bunch. Just four weeks of this daily commute and my hands vibrate for stretches, my back aches, my butt is re-shaped and possibly larger, I wake with nightmares of Mac trucks, I’m yelling insults at people I pass in hallways.... How do you commuter’s do it? I need some insights to get through the next 3 weeks.
color
I am enormously grateful for my functioning rods and cones, for my decent vision and this color saturated world we get to live in. What a pleasure it is to look, to notice the bright red berries on the evergreen shrub outside my window, the pale yellow cottonwoods, the vivid white of a clean sheet, the delicate robin egg blue of toothpaste on my toothbrush, the metallic black of a passing car.
I try not to be a hater...
but inevitably she calls just as I’ve plugged in my iron, tuned into the latest podcast of This American Life, and picked up my sharpest scissors for a serious work session. Rinnnggg, Rinnng, “Hello?” I say. “Hi, this is Rachel at card holder services.” (you can’t interupt at this point, she’s a recording) “there is no problem with your current credit card.” That’s about as far as it goes before I hang up on her. But she’s already broken the spell and I have to begin again like my dog situating herself on her pillow, turning, pushing, turning again before I can resume working. That rant ranted, I am thinking of making commemorative bowls or t-shirts that say I Hate Rachel at Card Holder Services. Place your orders now.
long weekend
After thursday’s feasting, I persuaded my family to make the trek up to Portland for the opening of “Little Things” at Guardino Gallery. We spent the day together enjoying the city, then Josh and the kids headed to a movie theatre while I went to work. The Gallery was packed all evening despite the downpour outside. I talked to an endless flow of people, none of which had ever heard of me. I definately felt the small town girl amongst city slickers, and realized the work I have ahead of me, carving out a name for myself beyond Eugene. Daunting and Invigorating!
St. Pauli Girl
Last week I had the pleasure of seeing one of my food heros, Sandor Ellix Katz, speak about fermentation at the UO. That lecture, and the odd little DNA like stitched wool pieces I’ve been playing around with, got me wondering about fermented foods under the microscope. I found lots of beautiful images online, like this photo of St. Pauli Girl beer. Can’t you see this in fabric?
benefits
One of the benefits of working from home is the opportunity it affords me to be around when my kids are home too. I love waking with them in the mornings, making them breakfasts and lunches, seeing them off to school. I love being around when they return, hearing their stories, helping with homework, sometimes listening while they process hard parts of their day. This benefit is less measurable than the retirement package I don’t have, less practical than the health care plan, or the paid vacation. There are days I feel crazy and bitter about choosing to work as an artist (with all the inherent financial risk), then other moments, like this one with my daughter laughing about some dream she had, where I see with perfect bright clarity, the graceful braiding of my home life and my work life, and I feel grateful for the endless benefits.
on chard
It is still out there in my garden, drinking in the cold rain, soaking up that distance winter sunlight, looking surprisingly cheerful and verdant despite it’s immediate surroundings, all dead leaves and chicken manure. I clipped an armload of it this morning and crammed it in my crock pot along with some white beans and potatoes, in hopes that chard’s perpetually sunny attitude will rub off on me!